Category Poetry

The Death of an Old Man

Yesterday, a grand and often very beautiful funeral was held, following the death of a likeable, shrewd and vivid man. It is of course hard to separate the image we are given of Prince Philip, or ourselves put onto him, from the man he actually was. He surely had a similar problem, himself. Who was he, apart from his public… continue reading

Where You Live

This poem was finished on the day of Joe Biden’s Inauguration, January 20th  2021. It does not have the glitter and panache of Amanda Gorman’s poem recited on that day, but I think it carries a great deal of the relief so many of us will have felt on receiving Biden’s clear signals that sense, sanity and integrity were back… continue reading

A Severed Edge

In the rush and flood of falsity and ill-doing that enter and surround our everyday lives, among all the mis-steps and momentous errors born of that rush and that falsity, I keep returning to certain physical landmarks that at least give the appearance of standing firm and of meaning something worth standing for. One such landmark is St Aldhelm’s chapel.… continue reading

Across the Way

“The Reader” is a national charity. “From its global Shared Reading movement, to its Calderstones Park home in Liverpool… “The Reader” builds lively communities that bring people together and books to life.” And my project “Poems for…the wall” and “The Reader” are exploring ways we might collaborate a bit. In the meantime, one of “The Reader’s many projects is to… continue reading

Let’s Hear it from Janus on the Union

The Roman god Janus had two heads, two faces. They are usually depicted as looking in opposite directions. And the UK has a Gaffe man and a lying Toad for Prime Minister. He says, “Call me Boris” but perhaps “Call me Janus” would ring a little truer. And those two heads are not only turned in opposite directions – all… continue reading

What a Funny Time to say Goodbye to the Chaos Maistro

So now, suddenly, it’s off with his head, the maestro, that shiny hate-filled spear-head of Brexit. He conducted his own removals, exiting through the front door of course, in full view of the cameras, delivering insult to the last. Not so long ago, a raucous parrot I know, a “bird of paradise” who insists on the liberty to speak, had… continue reading

Two Poems for the Autumn

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Facing West Towards America

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The Beast Outside the Citadel

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Waiting 2020

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Copyright © Rogan Wolf – Poet and Social Worker
In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk

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